


we can escape within each other

by lshtons



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Panic, Internalized Homophobia, Just slightly, M/M, Pining, Slurs, just one i'm sorry, unsupportive parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-03 11:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5288747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lshtons/pseuds/lshtons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's year nine and even though it's only been two weeks since school started, Michael and Calum are already over it and wish to leave more than anything.</p><p>Also, Michael has some confusing feelings towards his best friend and the last thing he wants is to lose him because of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we can escape within each other

**Author's Note:**

> yikes this is short and cliché as shit but it's my first fic on here so let's just be excited about that!! it's cute though they're so smol i luv it :')

The sidewalk rolls under Michael's feet as he runs, more air being knocked out of his lungs with each step he takes. He's been chasing his best friend, Calum, back to the boy's house all the way from school, and he's pretty sure he's going to _die_ if he doesn't get to slow down soon. Luckily, he'll only be a couple feet away from their destination once he turns around the corner.

Calum's already inside by the time Michael makes it to the front gate, which he rips open along with the door. He doesn't bother to say hello to Calum's sister, Mali, because he knows he can do that later and right now he just wants to collapse onto Calum's bed. Michael's burning feet take him upstairs, anyway, and he's pretty sure it's the adrenaline that carried him all the way there because he hasn't run that fast since primary school.

The second Michael reaches Calum's door he crouches over, grasping onto his knees for dear life as he catches his breath. He looks up at the younger boy sitting in the desk chair and his mossy green eyes meet Calum's soft brown ones, which have crinkles surrounding them because Calum's laughing extremely hard at Michael. The pale boy doesn't know whether to feel upset or weird because his best friend is mocking his inability to run as fast as him, but he also has dimples all over his stupid face and looks . . . _really pretty._ Michael's never felt so lightheaded in his whole life.

"I . . . hate . . . you . . . so much," Michael pants as he stumbles over to Calum's bed, falling on it with the utmost inelegance. His clothes are tacky with sweat and are sticking to him in all the wrong spots, and Calum is _still_ laughing, so he can't help but feel out of place.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I just wanted to see if you could run as quickly as I can. I'm just laughing because I wasn't running very fast in the first place." Calum snickered, clutching his stomach that's in pain from laughing so hard and speeding down the streets.

"Shut up, at least I can beat you in every video game you've ever played." Michael muttered, digging his fingernails into his thighs. "That takes a lot more skills than running. Any asshole can do that."

"Hey, don't go and call me an asshole because I'm athletic!" Calum hisses, grabbing a crumpled up piece of notebook paper off of his desk and tossing it at the older boy's head.

Michael opens it up, hoping to find something worth reading, but it's just old maths homework. _Maths._ "You know who the real assholes are? Everyone at school. Fucking hate that place."

Calum clamps his hand over Michael's mouth, his bony fingers pressing slightly into Michael's soft cheek. Calum's hands are sweaty and calloused and Michael would've pushed him away if it didn't feel nice to have the brunette so close to him. It _shouldn't._

"Quit swearing so much, Mali's downstairs and she'll tell my mum and yours if you keep going off like that." Calum whispers, looking Michael directly in his eyes. It's a bit too much for Michael to handle, so he lets his eyes close. He nods to show that he got the message, and Calum finally— _sadly_ —removes his hand from his face. "But anyway, you can't call three-thousand-and-something kids you don't know assholes, Mike. They could be nice."

As always, Calum has a point. It's only their second week of year nine and they've barely talked to anyone, so it's hard to claim that they're all mean. Michael's already gotten shit from a bunch of guys, though, and that's enough for him to catagorize them as assholes.

"They're not, I can tell. They're all a bunch of stuck up shits—oh, sorry—who have nothing to do except victimize the innocent." Michael scoffed.

"You're right about the 'stuck up' part. School isn't my favorite place eit—" Calum stops short, and his expression switches from annoyed to concerned so quickly, it almost scares Michael. His bushy eyebrows are furrowed and his hands are clenched into fist in between his slim legs. "Have people been messing with you, Mikey? Tell me who, I'll beat the crap out of them."

"Well, y-yeah," Michael chokes, because he actually didn't plan on telling Calum about what happened. It's his problem, not his best friend's, and it's _embarrassing._ "It was just a couple of guys in my maths class trying to take the piss out of me, nothing worth fighting about."

"Hey, if it has something to do with you, it's worth fighting about. Wanna tell me what happened?" Calum asks reassuringly, and it's when Michael notices that the younger boy is blushing that he feels like crawling into a dark hole and never coming back out.

"Um, j-just the usual . . . they were poking fun at my hair, my weight, the obscene amount of bracelets I wear . . ." Michael shrugs, and he bites down on his lip hard enough to bruise it because he doesn't want to finish the story. It spills out of his mouth like water, anyway. "And one of them . . . one of them c-called me a fag, but it doesn't matter—"

"What? Yes it does! People can't just go around calling you . . . _that!_ They're not allowed to make up lies about you." Calum barks defensively. He gets up to sit next to Michael, except he estimates the distance incorrectly and ends up landing on the edge of Michael's thigh, their hips pressed against each other. Calum moves over quickly, to Michael's relief, because he felt like he was suffocating with Calum on him like that.

Michael sighs, pulling on his hood and drawing it closed as tightly as possible. He appreciates the fact that Calum's so willing to defend him to the point where he's blushing, but he's not sure if those guys who called him that are even _lying._

Every time Michael gets near Calum, he gets sweaty and nervous and his entire body clamps up. It's been happening since the beginning of last summer because that's when Michael realized he had a _crush_ on his best friend. Except it's not like one of his usual crushes because this time, it's on a boy. It's on _Calum_. Two things he's not supposed to be attracted to.

"It's whatever, Cal, I don't wanna talk about it. All I know is that I never want to go back there." Michael says, pulling his hood further down so he can't actually see Calum. "You know what we should do? We should drop out and move to America."

"Michael, you tend to come up with terrible ideas, and that's the shittiest one so far. We're only fourteen. What business do we have in America, alone?" Calum chuckles.

Michael shrugs, taking off his hood because he's roasting under there. He turns to look at Calum, and he looks intent with the conversation, his eyes gleaming with wonder. He looks like he actually _cares_ about Michael's stupid idea, and the blonde can't even think past the white nose blaring in his head.

"W-well, it's not like we're doing much of anything here in Sydney. We could go to America and live in hotels, go out to eat all the time, stay up as late as we want to, and avoid all of the jerks out there." Michael explains, taken aback by how far fetched but blissful his plan sounds.

Calum's laughing. Maybe at the fact that Michael's an idiot, or maybe because he's just simply amused, but either way Michael doesn't care because Calum has his hand on the older boy's pale thigh and he wants to crawl out of his skin.

Calum must've noticed that Michael jumped when his hand landed on the blonde's thigh and his laughter breaks into an awkward, loud cough. He's blushing, and so is Michael because now his leg feels cold without Calum's touch. Michael's rubbing his hand against his thigh because maybe that'll make the ghost feeling of Calum's hand go away, but it doesn't, and he can still feel his long, slightly shaky fingers pressing into his taut skin. 

"U-um, your plan is dumb," Calum chokes out, and it obviously doesn't help the situation because now the older boy is frowning, the pinkness that was fading from his cheeks making a return. "No, it's not, i-it's just—it's a good idea, and I'd love to run away to the states with you, but that'd require money, and IDs, and . . . and we can try this when we turn eighteen, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah you're right. We can't go at all, actually, or together, at least. You have your football career to think about." Michael sighs. The thought of living somewhere Calum's not puts a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Are you really considering leaving me behind? I can play on an American team, they have football there." Calum says eagerly, rolling his eyes when Michael reminds him of the correct term for the game down there.

"True. But still, this plan doesn't help us now. I still don't want to go back. Nobody likes me, not even Hemmings. Which is fine; I don't like him either." Michael says, fiddling with the bracelets around his wrists because if he doesn't do something with his hands, they're gonna start shaking harder than they already are.

Luke Hemmings is the lanky blonde kid that sits all the way in the back of most of the classes Michael and Calum share together. Luke and Calum have been talking since the first day of school and Michael's nothing _but_ jealous. He doesn't fancy Luke at all, and the feeling seems to be mutual.

"Luke likes you! He said he's just intimated by you. You're cooler than the rest of us, Mike. And you know _I_ like you, isn't that enough?" Calum smiles, and Michael would've done the same if he wasn't busy fawning over his best friend. Calum doesn't smile as often as he should, and now that Michael thinks about it, he's always thought the brunette's smile was beautiful.

The words are sticky in Michael's mouth, fighting to just sit in his throat. "I l-like you, too. And yeah, that's enough, y-you're enough." he says, his teeth grazing on the skin just under his lip. There's more meaning behind what he said then he wants there to be.

Michael turns to look out of Calum's window because he's been staring at Calum for too long. There's a large eucalyptus tree standing tall besides Calum's house, and Michael remembers the day he fell out of it. It was two summers ago, Michael had been staying over at Calum's house way too often so his parents told him he wasn't allowed to see his best friend for a week. That didn't stop Michael, of course, and he decided that the tree outside of Calum's window was his ticket inside. Except by the time he was at the top and Calum had opened his window for him to climb in, Michael's foot slipped and he dropped right out.

He remembers both of their mothers rushing out to help him, his mum craddiling him in her arms and Calum's cleaning the huge scrape on his knee. He remembers trying not to cry because he felt that he was too old to do that, but the tears came anyway because he felt _so_ stupid and humiliated. He remembers Calum holding his hand with a tight grip. He remembers Calum quickly pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

He remembers both of them acting like it never happened.

Michael let his fingers trace over the scar on his knee, squeezing his eyes shut in fear before parting his lips to speak. "D-do you _like_ like me, Calum? Because I . . . I _l-like_ you."

Calum freezes because he probably wasn't expecting that, fisting up the ends of his shorts. His face goes pale and he's at a loss for words that Michael isn't even sure he wants to hear.

"Yeah, I d-do." Calum mutters, just barely loud enough for Michael to catch, but he does and the white nose in his head gets louder, if that's even possible.

"You . . . you _do?_ " Michael asks, because he's quite sure that he's dreaming and wants confirmation.

Calum's eyes go from soft to scared and angry, and Michael can tell that anger isn't directed at him, but he's still mad.

"W-what? No! I mean—I don't know what I mean! I'm c-confused, I don't kn-know . . ." Calum errupts, and Michael's too upset to notice that Calum's lip is trembling, which has always been a tell that he's lying.

Michael is _furious_. At himself for developing feelings for Calum and asking if the boy felt the same way. At Calum for saying yes and then taking it back and being confused. Michael's already confused enough, he doesn't need Calum sending him mixed signals as well.

"You can't tell me that you have feelings for me and than take it back! It's not fair!" Michael snaps indignantly. He shoves Calum back against the bed, and he's crying now. He can't even bring himself to look at Calum as he gets yelled at by the younger boy.

"What? I'm confused! You can't just randomly ask me something like that! You're my b-best friend . . . we shouldn't . . . I don't kn-know, Mike, I don't know!" Calum yells, pushing Michael back, and way harder than the blonde did to him.

Michael's had enough; it's too much. He gets up off of Calum's bed and picks up his backpack, turning to the door to leave. He shudders slightly when Calum grabs his wrist to stop him from leaving, and he knows that's gonna feel cold too when Calum lets go.

"M-Mikey, where are you going? You're supposed to stay h-here until your mum gets home from work. S-stay, please." Calum asks softly, his cheeks pink and wet with tears. He's shaking because he's probably as scared as Michael is, and it's _still_ too much.

"I live three blocks away, I'll be f-fine." Michael says as roughly as he rips arm out of Calum's grip. He doesn't bother to listen to whatever Calum's saying to him and races down the stairs. He tries to wipe away the tears away from his eyes so Mali doesn't see him crying, but it's useless.

Once Michael's downstairs, he attempts to walk past Calum's sister so he won't even have to say anything to her, but she's too quick and cares too much to just ignore him.

"Hey, Mikey, slow down. What happened? Are you okay?" Mali asks, standing in front of the blonde boy and blocking his path.

"Hi, Mali. N-nothing happened, I'm okay, p-please just let me go home." Michael sniffles, pushing past the older girl. His eyes are puffy and red, his pale cheeks blotchy. He looks as stupid as he feels, and all he wants is to go home where no one has to _see_ him. 

"Alright . . . I'll call your mum and let her know you're leaving. If you need anything, just come back over, yeah?" Mali says, worry lacing her words.

Michael nods and takes that as his cue to walk out of the door. The second he's out of the front gate, he's running towards his house because he _can_ run fast, _damn it_ , and maybe that'll make him enough for Calum. He's willing to try anything.

* * * * *

Michael's sitting on the floor, wrapped up in his blue duvet with only his hands sticking out so he could play his favorite video game. It would be the perfect distraction from everything that happened today if it wasn't Calum's favorite game, too. He drops his controller when the knocking on his bedroom door startles him. He figures it's his mother coming to let him know that dinner's ready, but the last thing Michael wants to do is eat.

"I'm not hungry, Mum! Just save me some, please!" Michael calls out, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"You know I can't cook, Mike." the person on the other side of the door laughs, and Michael lets out a small yelp because that's _not_ the voice he was expecting.

The door opens with a click and Michael turns around to see Calum standing in the threshold, leaning against the wall as he rubs his arm anxiously. He's looking at the ground rather than Michael, and maybe that's just easier. 

Calum's wearing the same sweated-out clothes from earlier, and his shirt is so thin and stuck to his chest that Michael can practically see his organs. Michael's been staring for too long again, though, so he eventually manages to make his lips move.

"Do you wanna play?" Michael asks, offering the younger boy a controller. Calum doesn't answer, he just takes it from Michael and sits down on his bed. Michael can feel Calum's eyes boring a hole through his skin as he restarts the game, and he does everything in his power to not turn around and stare back.

"Mali's worried about you, told me to come check and see if you're alright." Calum says, gnawing on his fingernails. It's always been a bad habit of his, and Michael realizes that's probably why he started doing it as well.

"I'm fine." Michael deadpans, not wanting to talk about this. They both already said how they feel, "I don't know" was all Michael needed to hear. Calum doesn't want Michael, Michael has to live with it.

As if he can read Michael's mind, Calum tuts and nudges Michael's shoulder with one of his unsteady hands. "We have to talk about this, Michael. We can't just act like it didn't happen."

"Yes we can, we're good at that, remember?" Michael scoffs. He knows Calum caught on when he rolls his eyes, pausing the game and dropping the controller.

"That's why I'm confused! I know I feel . . . s-something . . . but we're not _supposed_ to, Mike." Calum sighs.

Michael doesn't say anything for a minute, he just watches Calum from the corner of his eye instead. Calum's rubbing his fingers on the hem of his shirt, like he's threatening to take it off. It's not an empty threat, and he pulls it off over his head and flings it to the floor. Calum's skinny, so you can just barely see the outline of his ribs, and his creamy brown skin is glistening with sweat. (Or maybe it's the natural glow he always seems to have.) Seeing Calum shirtless is different now for Michael. It's intimate, in a way. Michael's head goes white hot and he can't look away fast enough.

"Yeah, I know. I'm a boy, you're a boy, we're not supposed to like each other. But that doesn't just make my feelings go away." Michael finally says quietly, and he _has_ to look up at Calum when he feels his pale fingers intertwined with Calum's brown ones.

"Actually, that's not what I meant. It's just . . . we're best friends, are we supposed to have feelings for each other? But my parents told me that's it's o-okay to like . . . to l-like boys. Said it's my choice. It's your choice, too, Michael." Calum tells him.

"My parents don't have the same philosophy, I don't think. You know that boy Hemmings has a crush on—Ashton Irwin, I think his name is? Well apparently he likes him back, and my parents were saying how they 'wouldn't know what to do if their son was gay'." Michael explains, and he's already crying again. "I don't even know if I'm fucking gay! I just know that every time I get near you, I get all f-flustered and nervous and I l-love when you let me borrow your clothes because they sm-smell like you, and I just really l-like you, Calum! A-and you don't have to feel the same way . . ."

"No, Michael, I like you, _God_ , I like you a lot. I just don't know if I can—" Calum can't even finish his sentence before Michael has him pinned down to the bed by his shoulders, hovering over him.

"Could you stop fucking telling me that you like me and then taking it back? I don't care if we're best friends, do you have feelings for me or what? Just tell me!" Michael snaps, his hot tears dripping on to Calum's bare chest.

"I-I'm sorry, Michael," Calum croaks, flicking away his tears with the tips of his fingers. "I d-do like you, I do. Fuck . . . c-can you kiss me?"

Michael didn't expect that. Calum's shirtless, Michael's leg is slotted between his two which is causing one leg of Calum's shorts to ride up, and he has an open invitation to kiss the boy. Everything feels too real, and Michael feels too big for his body.

"O-okay," Michael says. After watching Calum's lips for minute, working up the nerve to do it, he gently presses his lips to Calum's before pulling back quickly, just to taste. He decides he likes this, a whole fucking lot, and that he's alright, albeit scared.

Michael goes in for real this time, parting his lips and slotting them between Calum's. Kissing is a lot wetter than Michael imagined, and he's pretty sure he's shit at it, but he's kissing Calum, so it's perfect nonetheless.

Calum's mouth is a hot slide, pulling Michael into a trance and making everything in his head and around him hazy. He keeps forgetting to breathe, keeps forgetting that it's even _necessary_ because Calum's mouth is like oxygen to him right now. Calum tries to sit up and switch positions, but Michael presses down harder right over both of his collarbones to keep the younger boy under him. Calum lets out a kicked moan, like he liked that, and Michael does it again, which makes Calum fucking _whimper._

He doesn't know how long they've been kissing for, but he feels that Calum's half-hard under his leg, and Michael realizes that he's got a tent in his pants as well, he has since Calum took off his shirt. It feels way too real for Michael now, and Calum must feel that way too because they both pull away at the same time.

Michael lays down next to Calum, observing him. His eyes are still closed, his dark, long eyelashes fanned out over his pink cheekbones. His lips are swollen and parted, like he's still wants more, so Michael leans in and kisses him softly. Calum opens his eyes after that, and they're dark and _awestruck_.

"Can I stay over tonight, Mikey? Want to kiss you more." Calum asks, his voice hushed. His fingers already found their way to Michael's again, tangled up together.

"'Course you can. You'll have to go get clothes from your house first, though, I don't think I have anything clean for you to sleep in." Michael says, except he's lying. His mum did the laundry yesterday, he just wants Calum to go home for a bit so he can relieve the tension in his pants.

Calum nods and kisses Michael again, maybe because it felt just as foreign now to not have his lips on Michael's as it did for the older boy.

"So, since leaving the country is out of the question, what are we gonna do about school? I vote for just never going back." Michael whispers, earning a smile and an eye roll from Calum.

"We can't just _not go_ , Mikey. If we can't escape Sydney yet, we can escape within each other for now. How's that sound?" Calum suggests, chewing on his lip again.

"Good. _Cheesy_ , but really good." Michael answers, kissing Calum just because he can, and the younger boy probably wanted him to.

He's enough.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope that was good!! let me know what you think xx
> 
> tumblr: contuorkit


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